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“You haven’t been making the best impression of yourself.”
Vintage barely glanced at Emperor, eying the rim of his cup with intent. The restaurant was jazzy and warm, warm lights and wooden walls coating around them.
“I don’t intend to make them like me,” Vintage huffed, thumb caressing the cold glass. “I could care less about their opinion of me.”
“Well, see, that’s your problem,” Emperor leaned next to him. “Everybody else is getting along well with each other, your team is the outlier.”
“See, I don’t care,” Vintage snapped. “Why do you care so much, anyway? What reason could you possibly have to even consider talking to me?”
Emperor sighed. Despite the upbeat music, it seemed oddly quiet. Empty, almost.
“I simply wanted you to know.”
“And you assume I don’t know already?” Vintage refused to meet his gaze, despite his harsh tone. “It’s not like anybody’s gonna approach us after Red-Sole tried to beat up Skull.”
“…” Emperor sighed again. “Vintage, look, you’re powerful.”
“Get on with it.”
”But.. if nobody likes you, that risks getting kicked out again, yes?”
Vintage’s shoulders drooped, though his glare hardened.
“Why did you come here?” He hissed. “Just to make me feel bad? Great job, Emperor, I feel great.”
“Vintage—“
“Emperor, I know that nobody likes me. You don’t have to rub it in my face.”
“That wasn’t—“
“Wasn’t your intention? Then what reason could you possibly have to risk your status to talk to me?”
“… I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
Vintage almost flinched. He looked at Emperor with wide eyes, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.
He shook his head.
”I’m doing fine. Take your leave now.”
“Very well, as you wish.”
And yet, as Emperor left, Vintage couldn’t help but feel him tug at his heartstrings.
Stupid, stupid Emperor.
***
The next day, Emperor didn’t come to Vintage. Vintage came to him. He was aware of everything that’d happened, how his team discouraged Emperor from approaching Vintage, how Emperor’s opinion of him was already low, and how everybody saw him as a bug.
But he just couldn’t stand to see him sit alone.
Vintage slumped next to him. Emperor didn’t even look at him.
“Yes, Vintage?”
“…”
And oh, this was the part. The part where Vintage would probably rip him up and tell him never to approach him again, and—
“I’m sorry.”
…
Vintage didn’t expect that either. He didn’t anticipate the own words coming out of his stupid mouth. Neither did Emperor, who just sat there in silence.
”… I forgive you,” Emperor said finally. “… Say, have you ever tried the salmon here?”
Vintage hesitated. “No, uh, no I haven’t.”
“Why, you must! I’ll order it for you right away.”
Vintage blinked. “A-ah, alright…”
Stupid, stupid Vintage, succumbing to his little charms.
And yet, despite it all, a part of him didn’t mind.
Didn’t mind at all.
***
Vintage couldn’t help but find himself at the same little seat at the same little time every single night. He loved wasting the credits Double Egg never used, sparking with heat every time Emperor came to sit with him. Two nights turned into three, three turned into five. Now it was just a regular thing for them, sitting at the table with sparkling lemonade and high spirits.
“You know, Rider, yes?”
Vintage nodded, leaning forward to hear Emperor better throughout the dizzying noise. He couldn’t help but eye Emperor, the way he moved, talked, the way he laughed and swung his hands. The way his golden tentacles swayed and mouth moved, and—
“… Don’t you think so?”
“Whuh? Oh! Oh, yes, definitely.”
Emperor chuckled, leaning in front of Vintage.
“You seem so distracted today! How odd,” Emperor ran his finger over the rim of his glass. “Is something the matter?”
“I-uh, nothing.”
Emperor stared at him for a moment, his face unmoving with his permanent grin. Vintage braced for a barrage of questions, or and endless lecture, or—
And then he laughed.
The sort of laugh a girl would blush at. The sort that made Vintage’s ears burn and heart race, and before he knew it, he was laughing too. Just a stupid thing like that made him lightheaded and embarrassed, but Vintage didn’t mind, oh, not at all! He got lost in the laughter, giggling with Emperor like little boys, that he hadn’t noticed the general crowd glancing at them.
And then they trickled down to a small conversation, a gentle one. The sort with no real support but still warming to the soul like nice soup.
“Say, Emperor?”
“Yes?”
Vintage cracked a grin. “Have you ever tried the spicy noodles here?”
“I’m afraid not!”
“Well, allow me to treat you..”
…
Emperor did not like the noodles. He might as well have been breathing fire, but in the end, they both thought it was absolutely hilarious that Vintage had something under than his shell of intimidation and fear, and that Emperor was absolutely determined to finish the noodles if it cost him his life.
And it wasn’t until Emperor left that he realized the king had got him all wrapped up to where he wanted. A vulnerable position to where he could teach Vintage his lesson.
Vintage didn’t want to admit his undying fear of Emperor, the fear that he had that ate at him, the fear that Emperor would be tired of him and leave.
…
But at least the relationship would be nice while it lasted.
***
Vintage had already come to expect Emperor to leave him, but he hadn’t. Not yet, not even after Vintage shared his funky little secrets and Emperor shared some embarassing stories about his little brother. He even invited Vintage to play some games with him, maybe train him for turf war, train him for other weapons.
Now, Vintage would’ve normally declined, but,
It was Emperor.
How could you ever say no to Emperor?
***
The next time they met was on the battlefield. Finals for the tournament had approached more quickly than Vintage anticipated, and before he knew it, he stood face to face with Emperor.
The sky was high and bright, clouds drifting across the sky.
The calm before the storm, pre-battle jitters. Vintage didn’t want to admit his absolute terror in facing Emperor in his specialty, but it was just a bigger Splat Zones, right?
Though he had nobody to face Emperor directly, he could easily counter their range with his long range, right? And Double was a phenomenal player, and so was Omega, and Red-Sole made a wonderful support…
And yet, he still had doubts.
…
The battle went rough. Emperor was skilled at his craft, but so was Vintage. Already rushing towards the base in the first minute. Though they didn’t have much turfing power, they did have strength. Not to mention the long range compared to their only splatterscope. It was a grueling battle, though, with Emperor being quick as always and Vintage always being stuck, they still pulled it out to one last shot and—
And Vintage won .
Vintage had beat the king at his specialty.
***
Emperor didn’t seem too bothered that Vintage won. Or at least, to the rest of his team. Vintage could see his ears twitching and nose scrunching. Even if it was just an untelevised tournament, he could feel the embarrassment. Especially with the S4 watching in the audience.
So when Emperor invited him to his room, Vintage was a little more than surprised. It’d just been a simple note, “Meet me in my room, now”.
He almost wanted to laugh at his pissy writing, but he knew better than to keep the king waiting, and Emperor was conveniently on the same floor.
As he approached the door, Emperor quickly shot out and yanked Vintage inside. He yelped, feeling Emperor take total control over his body. He had a tight grip, which made Vintage’s hand twitch and thrash under Emperoor.
“Emperor!” Vintage yelled. “What the fuck?!”
“You shut your trap.”
Oh, now that really got him. Because Vintage was not the sort to beg, the sort to listen, he was an X ranker and X rankers do not take orders from someone who barely played ranked modes.
And yet, now when he looked into Emperor’s eyes, he found himself shrinking. His arms felt weak, his legs were jelly, and all he could see were those damn gold eyes. Those fucking gold eyes. He felt so powerless, and somehow Emperor just kept dragging him down further.
“Wu… What are you doing?” he managed to ask.
“I decimated myself out on the field,” Emperor said softly, avoiding his gaze. “Allow me to make it up to you.”
“What-?”
Emperor pressed himself onto Vintage, lips locking and cheeks burning.
Vintage’s chest brimmed with warmth, taking him in fully as Emperor kissed him. Oh, it was heavenly. As his tongue roamed with his, it was almost like they were in perfect euphoria, just alone, just them two.
Vintage ran his hands up Emperor’s waist, onto his chest, kissing back with fervor. He was breathless, this moment could last forever. This kiss was so full of love, it felt right. Like he’d always belonged there, with Emperor. It was warm and comforting, everything he wanted and needed.
Finally, they parted, but they remained close together, chests rising and falling quickly. Emperor’s eyes were half-lidded, brimming with love.
A part of Vintage felt empty without him.
Vintage hesitantly took Emperor’s cheeks, lifting his tentacle behind his ear. His hands were trembling and Emperor only smiled, holding Vintage’s palms in his.
Oh, how strange this felt. To be intimate, to be loved, and though his doubts clouded his mind, he couldn’t care less.
Emperor’s lips were on his again, hands tangled together, tangled up in his web of warmth and sweet candied lips. Emperor’s lips were slick and sweet, and Vintage barely processed how they were on the bed, with Emperor pressing into him.
Vintage’s eyelids were heavy, mine hazy as Emperor peppered his cheeks with kisses, moving to his neck and hugging him tightly. Deeply they fell from their greater heavens and down to a little limbo, just the two of them.
Emperor’s fingers grazed over his chest, feeling his skin and letting go of Vintage. He whined in protest, and it brought a soft smile to Emperor’s face.
“You’re cute.”
That’s how Vintage knew he fell harder. He knew the way his cheeks flushed and his heart thumped in his chest that there was no way out of this labyrinth of love.
And honestly? Vintage was fine with it.